


Unexpected Roads

by Rumaan



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 20:19:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2886269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumaan/pseuds/Rumaan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Council and Lexa have decided to strengthen the ties between the Sky People and the Grounders. Luckily, Clarke has Bellamy watching her back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Roads

**Author's Note:**

> Because the fake marriage trope is my favourite trope...
> 
> This is my first time writing in this fandom, so please be kind. Also unbeta'd so please excuse any mistakes.

“Clarke, you’re wanted by the Chancellor,” Lieutenant Miller said, popping his head into the medical tent where Clarke had stalked after being refused permission to sit in on the meeting.

She gritted her teeth and nodded her acknowledgement, putting down the pile of gauze she had been sorting through in an attempt to keep herself busy whilst she raged about how unfair her mom and Kane had been in keeping her away from the high level negotiations with Lexa.

It didn’t take much these days for the Council to treat her as if she was too fragile for responsibility, despite her having set up the truce with the Grounders _and_ having made sure it came into being. It was almost as if they thought she would crack under the pressure. She understood the concern, understood why her mom in particular wanted to shield her right now, but it was too late – It had been since she had been sent down to Earth to die.

Following Lieutenant Miller out of the tent, Clarke heard the footsteps of someone falling in just behind her. She didn’t need to turn around to know it was Bellamy, his rifle clutched in his hands. Often, he was the only one she could bear being around. There were no horrified looks from him at what she was capable of and none of the stifling concern that made her want to scream. There was just a quiet acceptance of what she had done and a comforting presence that demanded nothing from her. Bellamy knew what it was to let the monster out and have to deal with the consequences, and the only time they had discussed it, he had reassured her that she had done the right thing. She had given Finn a merciful death in place of the torture and pain the Grounders had wanted to put him through.

Lieutenant Miller stopped as he reached the room on the remains of Alpha Station that had been set aside especially for the Chancellor and Council Members to use. “They are waiting for you, Clarke,” he said.

She started to walk in but stopped and turned around the scuffle she heard behind her. “Not you, Blake,” Lieutenant Miller said as Bellamy tried to skirt around him.

“He comes with me,” Clarke said.

“But your mom said only you.”

“I don’t enter without Bellamy,” she replied, tilting her chin up stubbornly and raising an eyebrow.

Lieutenant Miller stared at her for a moment as if testing her mettle. He knew how stubborn the 100 could be, he should do after all, with his son, Nathan, being pretty much Bellamy’s deputy. He soon signed and said, “They won’t be happy.” However, he stood aside for Bellamy, taking the rifle from him before letting him enter the room.

“Thanks, Princess,” Bellamy muttered as he passed her.

“If they’re asking for me, it means a decision is being made. You’ve as much right as I have to know what it is.”

They caught eyes, an unspoken message passing between them that they would stand together and defend their interests no matter what.

As soon as Clarke laid eyes on her mom, she knew that whatever they were discussing, Abby was not happy. Her shoulders were taut and her lips were compressed into a tight line. Her eyes did not leave Clarke, not even to give her usual disapproving look at Bellamy.

“Thank you for coming, Clarke,” she said, gesturing for her to sit at the empty seat by her side.

There was no seat for Bellamy, so he leant against the wall to her side, his arms folded.

The atmosphere was uncomfortable and Clarke looked around the table, trying to seek out the source of the tension. Out of everyone around the table, Kane, Lexa and Nyko looked the most at ease. Indra had her brows drawn into a ferocious scowl that was currently directed at her. Thelonious looked disengaged, almost as if he was an outsider allowed in to observe the talks. Everyone else had an anxious air about them, watching her intently as she settled at the table. This was about her then.

“I imagine you are wondering just what you are doing here, Clarke,” Kane said with a small smile that grated on her nerves. He knew she had fought to be allowed to attend. “The Commander has come to us with an offer to strengthen the bond between our two sides.”

Abby’s hand gripped Clarke’s thigh under the table, and Clarke knew she was not going to enjoy whatever Lexa had thought up.

“To wipe the bad blood between us and make everyone invested in keeping the peace, it has been decided that we formally seal the truce with a series of marriages.”

Clarke blinked at that. “Marriages?” she questioned.

“Yes,” Kane said with a fond smile to Lexa. “I have agreed to marry the Commander.”

The satisfaction at turn of events was clear in Kane’s voice, and Clarke’s eyebrows rose, she had not even realised that there was something between them. “Uh…congratulations?” she said, it coming out as a clear question.

“But that is not all,” Kane continued. “It was decided that another marriage between leaders should take place. A leader from the 100 and one of Lexa’s kin. You, Clarke.”

It took Clarke a moment to understand exactly what Kane had said and even after she had deciphered the words, she laughed. “I’m sorry, what?” she asked astonished.

“We’ve decided you should marry one of Lexa’s kin,” Kane repeated again, slowly and clearly as if that would somehow help.

She could do nothing but stare in shocked amazement, first at Kane and then at Lexa, both of whom placidly looked back at her, as if waiting for her to agree with a smile. Finally she turned to look at her mom, as if seeking some sort of clarification that this was nothing more than a joke. The expression on Abby’s face soon disabused her of that notion. The Chancellor was desperately unhappy and had obviously been outmanoeuvred. There was no way she would had offered her daughter up.

Clarke opened her mouth to tell them to go to hell, but nothing came out, the sound caught in her throat, almost strangling her. The silence dragged on, several people shuffling in their council seats as they waited for some sort of coherent response from her. However, she could do nothing but stare. Shock at this being a serious offer rendering her completely mute.

Finally, she turned towards Bellamy, who was staring intently at Kane, his brows knitted together and his jaw clenched tight. His gaze met hers and she could do nothing but stare entreatingly at him to help her, to do something that she was currently incapable of.

There was a rustle of fabric as Bellamy strode forward, his hand landed heavily on her shoulder, the warmth a comforting support.

“No,” Bellamy said, his voice firm with refusal.

Kane’s eyebrows descended as he lifted his eyes to Bellamy. “This has nothing to do with you, Blake. You aren’t even meant to be in here.”

“But it is a good job I am, as you have deemed it fitting to proposition my _wife_.”  

The hand tightened on her shoulder, almost as in warning, as a wave of scandalised murmurs broke out around the table. Clarke ignored them, choosing instead to look up at Bellamy. His eyes bored into hers, willing her to go along with his words. It took her only a few seconds to decide and she gave him a small nod and a wobbly smile of thanks.

 

\---------------

 

Clarke’s hand was engulfed in Bellamy’s as they almost ran out of the Council chamber. He had not let go of her since declaring they were secretly married and she found that she needed the anchor to help ground her thoughts.

“What do we do now?” she whispered to him.

“Make this as convincing as possible.”

They made a beeline to his tent, Bellamy zipping the flap shut to try and give them a measure of privacy, which was not easy living on top of each other as they all were.

He dropped her hand as she turned to pace, her fingers entangling in her hair as she tried to come to terms with the insane last half an hour. “What were they thinking? Just arranging marriages like that and expecting me to fall in line with no problem,” she ranted as she strode up and down, picking up stray articles of Bellamy’s clothing as she went.

“You’re just realising that the Council doesn’t care about our opinions, Princess?”

Clarke huffed out a laugh at that. She wished it was the case, but she had become disillusioned with the whole political system when her dad had been floated and she was locked up in the Skybox. Whilst her mom had come round to listening to her, the other Council members were still inclined to see her as a little girl.

“Okay,” she said, as the reality of what they had said to get her out of the predicament was fully comprehended by her brain. “The first thing we need is to work out exactly how we got married without any authorisation.”

“Sterling,” Bellamy said.

“Sterling?”

“Yes, the boy who died when we rescued Mel. His parents were active in that tree religion that Vera Kane ran. He was some Guard of the Shrub when he was little.”

Clarke couldn’t help but smile at that. “Keeper of the Tree.”

“Whatever. Anyway, we could say that he become the religious leader of The 100 and married us when we reunited.”

Clarke ruminated over the plan. It was better than anything she could come up and Kane will have known Sterling’s parents if they were in the church, but how would they explain Sterling being one of the delinquents if he was this supposedly spiritual person?

Not for the first time, Clarke was annoyed that she knew so little about the kids she’d come to the ground with. “What was Sterling locked up for?”

Bellamy smiled. “Nothing too irredeemable, Princess. He stole some extra clothing to try and impress a girl.”

_Not brilliant but at least it wasn’t murder or something_ , she thought. Besides, Kane hadn’t exactly followed in his mom’s footsteps.

“So he had a fit of conscience in the Skybox and looked to reform his ways and therefore became our spiritual leader,” she said.

Bellamy snorted at that but nodded. The only thing that Sterling had ever lead was the drunken festivities back at the dropship site.

That was one obstacle to their story cleared up but they had more to hurdle, which were infinitely more embarrassing to tackle. Clarke looked around the small tent. There wasn’t much in here, just a truckle bed, a pile of clothing, and a small stack of books. She wandered over to them, her eyebrows raising as she saw that they were all related to history. “Julius Caesar, Napoleon Bonaparte, Saladin, Sun Tzu. You like your famous generals then,” she said.

He shrugged. “I like history.”

“Explains how you’re so good at getting people to follow you,” she said. Putting Sun Tzu’s _The Art of War_ back down and turning to face him. “How do we do this?”

“Do what?” he asked, puzzled.

“You know, pretend that we’re madly in love and married. Oh God, we have to move in together.”

Bellamy walked over and put his hands on her shoulders. “We’ll get through this, Clarke, we always have.”

She nodded at that. He was right, this was not the worst predicament they’d ever been in. They would figure it out. They had to.

“I thought you’d share a tent with Octavia,” she said.

Bellamy’s mouth twisted at that. “She said something about not needing her brother around to cramp her style, and I really _don’t_ need to walk in on her and Lincoln.”

“I guess I’m moving in here then.”

“Why not your tent?”

“Well, unless you want to share with your mother-in-law…”

Clarke laughed at the sheer horror on Bellamy’s face.

The tent of the flap was unzipped and an unwelcome head poked it. “Good, at least your both dressed,” Murphy said, coming inside. “So the camp is buzzing with the news of the Princess and the Pauper.”

“Shut up, Murphy,” Clarke said, not in the mood for his ‘witticisms’ right now.

“I’m disappointed not to have been invited,” Murphy said with a put on pout. “I was sure I was in with a shot of being Best Man.”

Clarke put her hand on Bellamy’s arm to stop him from punching Murphy’s lights out. “Ha ha! Very funny, Murphy. What is it you want?”

“Came to see if you needed any help in selling this lie.”

“Who said it’s a lie?” Bellamy asked.

Murphy rolled his eyes. “When exactly did the pair of you have time to get married?”

“Sterling-” Bellamy started to say before Clarke interrupted, deciding to trust Murphy. She hoped this didn’t come back to bite her on the ass.

“They were planning on marrying me off to a Grounder,” she said. “That’s what the meeting was about.”

Murphy stared at her for a few moments before creasing up with laughter. “Of course they were. Don’t tell me, Kane?”

“Yep,” she replied.

“So you told them you were married to Bellamy?!”

“Well, Bellamy stepped in.”

Murphy grinned then. “Regular Prince Charming these days, aren’t you, Bellamy?”

No Prince Charming Clarke had ever seen looked quite as murderous as Bellamy did at that moment. But before he could pummel Murphy into the ground, Abby burst in.

“There you are, Clarke, I’ve been looking all over for you!” she said.

“Guess I’ll leave you to chat your mother-in-law then,” Murphy said, a wicked smirk on his face.

“What are you doing here?” Abby asked him.

“Just checking in with Mr and Mrs Blake as befitting my Best Man duties,” he said with a wink before he left.

“ _He_ was your Best Man,” Abby said incredulously, but before Bellamy could refute the suggestion, she turned to Clarke. “How could you not tell me? How could you run off and get married secretly?”

The hurt was clear to hear in her mom’s voice but Clarke lashed out, angry at just what the Council had proposed. “How could _you_ let them talk about marrying me off to some Grounder for the sake a truce?”

Abby reeled back. “I tried to stop them, to talk them out of it, but I was out voted. You can’t think I would have wanted this for you.”

“Can’t I?” Clarke asked. “After all, you got dad floated.”

“Clarke, that’s unfair-” Abby started to say.

“No, what’s unfair is the Council sending a bunch of kids down to the ground to die, and when we don’t, when we somehow survive, and struggle to make contact with you to let you know it’s safe to come down, you start trying to tell us how to live and what to do once more.”

“Hey,” Bellamy said, coming up and holding her shoulders. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.” He turned Clarke around before he bent to whisper in her ear, “I think we can tell your mom the truth, don’t you?”

Clarke let out the breath she was holding, Bellamy’s intervention giving her time to calm down. She nodded her agreement.

“Clarke and I aren’t really married,” Bellamy said in a matter of fact voice. “I said that so she wouldn’t have to marry a stranger.”

Abby sank down onto the bed, her head in her hands, taking her time to digest Bellamy’s words It was a few moments before she raised it once more, but when she did Clarke could see that she looked happier, the anxiety that had resided there since Clarke had walked into the Council meeting had disappeared. “Thank you,” she said to Bellamy. “For protecting her when I couldn’t.”

Bellamy gave a small nod of acknowledgment and Abby looked curiously at them. “So what is the reason for the secret marriage?” she asked, the departure of the pain leaving her voice lighter and clearer. “If you’re going to keep this lie up, then you need to think of everything.”

“You,” Clarke said with a twitch of her lips. “You’ve never hidden your disapproval of Bellamy.”

“I don’t disap-”

“Yes, you do,” Bellamy said. “But it’s okay. You have no reason to love me, just as I have no reason to trust the Council.”

“I guess I’ll be the fall guy then,” Abby replied.

 

\---------------

 

By the time they both emerged out of the tent, the news had spread around the camp like wildfire. They’d both decided on getting some lunch before collecting Clarke’s stuff, but she wished they hadn’t when they entered the food area and had to run the gauntlet of whispers and knowing looks. Bellamy had taken his usual stance of walking next to her, a small gap between them, but at the pointed stares, he grasped her hand, causing her to jump a little.

“Just go with,” he whispered. “Major Byrne is over there.”

They grabbed some food and spotted Monroe and Mel sitting at one of the smaller tables. Weaving their way through the gawping masses, they both sat with familiar faces with relieved sighs.

Monroe observed as they fussed with their plates. Bellamy giving Clarke his tomatoes, whilst she detached the leg from the breast of chicken she had and dumped it on his plate.

“I knew there had to be something more between the pair of you,” Monroe said.

“What do you mean?” Clarke asked around a mouthful of potato.

“You already acted like an old married couple.”

“No, we didn’t!” Clarke objected.

Monroe looked from their two plates with a smirk. “No, it’s completely normal for two purely platonic people to be so in sync they automatically just start swapping foodstuffs as they soon as they sit down.”

Clarke looked helplessly at Bellamy, who did nothing but shrug.

Mel laughed. “Did you really not know that everyone was speculating whether you were a couple or not?”

“No,” Clarke said.

“Told you she was clueless,” Monroe said with a smile. “But Bellamy, you had to know.”

Clarke narrowed her eyes in his direction. “Did you?”

He shot Monroe a glare. “People talk, Princess. I wasn’t going to run to you with every rumour.”

“Rumour?” Monroe asked with a sly smile. “Hardly rumours in this instance.”

“Whatever,” Bellamy said, dismissing Monroe. “You have enough to deal with without listening to camp gossip.”

All three girls looked at him, and Clarke watched, bemused, as a faint pink tinge turned his cheeks into burnished bronze.

She leant over and patted his hand fondly, only remembering their lie when she looked back across the table to Monroe and Mel and saw how disappointed they were at the weak display of doting marital affection.

_We need to work on that,_ Clarke thought.

 

\-----------------

 

It didn’t take them long to move Clarke’s stuff across the camp and into Bellamy’s tent. She didn’t have much, just some clothes, a small emergency medical kit, and some art supplies, but even the addition of that small amount shrunk the tent.

“What are we going to do about sleeping arrangements?” Clarke asked, looking around at the cramped space and the truckle bed that definitely would not support more than one person.

“You take the bed, I’ll take the floor,” he said.

“No, if we’re going to do this, we need to do it properly. Someone could walk in here unannounced and then how would we explain our sleeping separately?”

Bellamy observed her for a moment before he said, “Fine. I’ll swap the truckle bed for some extra blankets.”

“I’ll see if I can get hold of a double mattress,” Clarke said.

Bellamy started to strip and fold the truckle bed, ready to head out to the supply station when Clarke tugged on his arm.

“Hold on,” she said.

He stopped and raised an eyebrow in enquiry.

“Maybe we should get the first kiss out of the way.”

“Kiss?” he asked.

“Don’t be dense, Bellamy. We’re going to have to show some affection if we’re going to pull this off. We can’t afford another performance like the one we just gave in front of Monroe and Mel if we’re going to convince people. You can’t just stalk by my side holding your rifle. There’s going to have to be some touches.”

“Affection. Touches. Right,” he said, gulping a little.

“Is that going to be a problem?” she asked, amused. It wasn’t as if Bellamy hadn’t been intimate with girls down here. He’d spent the first few days on the ground sleeping around so she knew he no issue with girls.

“No, no,” he said. “I guess not.”

He put the truckle bed down before turning to face her, his eyes intense as he looked at her. He hand reached out to hers, entwining with her fingers, before he pulled her closer to him. “Ready?” he asked, licking his lips.

Clarke had only ever been this close to him once, when she had seen him again after escaping Mount Weather, and impulse had made her run and hug him. Then she had thought of nothing but relief at seeing him alive once more, realising that she hadn’t condemned him to death when she had closed the dropship door.

She had not taken the time then to notice how the freckles scattered across his nose and down his cheeks, or how warm he was to the touch, or just how shapely his lips were.

Bellamy wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer still, until she was pressed up against him and could feel his heat burning down the entire front of her body. Her eyes were caught by his as he bent his face close to her, touching his lips against hers in a soft kiss that ended almost before it had started, leaving her wanting much more.

She followed his lips up, straining on her tiptoes to get closer before she tangled her free hand into the hair at the nape of his neck to hold him still whilst she pressed her mouth to his, moulding her lips to his. He stopped for one heartrending second before scooping her up, his tongue darting out to caress her lips open as he deepened the kiss into one that melted her muscles, leaving her soft and plaint against him.

Clarke had no idea how much time had elapsed when they both pulled back, eyes fluttering open, and rasping in air. Once again, his cheeks held that fascinating tint of pink in them that made his skin glow like copper and had her fingers brushing over them. They stared at each other, the heightened atmosphere refusing to dissipate even though they were no longer kissing. He started to lower his head as if to kiss her again.

“Bellamy,” came the call from outside, forcing them both to take a step back. His hands lingered ever so slightly on her hips and she had the urge to snuggle back into his arms and demand he ignore whoever was hailing him and continue to kiss her.

“What is this I’m hearing?” Octavia said, barging in with little ceremony into the tent. “You and Clarke got married?!?”

She stopped as she looked first at her brother and then at Clarke. Her eyebrows rose as she took in the pink cheeks and mussed up hair of the pair in front of her. “Is there something you neglected to tell me?”

Bellamy sighed, the tension going out of him, as he looked away from Clarke towards his sister. “It’s not what you think.”

“Really?” Octavia said. “Then I didn’t just interrupt a make out session?”

Clarke’s hand came up to smother a laugh. “I’ll leave you to explain it to Octavia,” she said, happy to duck out of yet another explanation.

She couldn’t help the soft smile she sent Bellamy’s way and it remained on her lips as she made her way through the camp, reflecting on just how well her pretend husband could kiss.

 

\-----------

 

The end of the night came as a relief to Clarke as they walked back from dinner to their tent, Bellamy’s arm entwined around her waist and Murphy dogging their footsteps making all kinds of smartass comments.

“So, do I get the rifle now?” Murphy asked.

“Rifle?” Clarke asked.

“Yeah, you know, Bellamy’s other true love. In fact, I think this is the first time I’ve see him without it willingly. He usually has it clutched lovingly in his hands. I’m not sure you can live up to the epic romance, Princess.”

Clarke could not help the laughter that bubbled up, making Bellamy scowl even more. They reached their tent and Bellamy pushed the fabric aside for Clarke before he turned to Murphy and said, “Get out of here!”

“Why? Will I be interrupting something?”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “You know the truth, Murphy.”

“Yeah, I do, but I also know why it didn’t take the camp much to buy a romance between the pair of you.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, puzzled.

Murphy laughed. “Most of them think you two have had a thing from the very beginning. All that unresolved tension and all.”

 “Unresolved-,” Clarke started to say, before she shook her head. “You know what, it doesn’t matter.”

“All those lingering gazes and conversations held solely with your eyes,” Murphy continued. “The loyalty to one another. It’s caused comment.”

“Naturally,” Bellamy said sourly.

“No need to get your panties in a twist,” Murphy said, looking from one disgruntled person to the other. “It made it much easier to sell your story.”

Bellamy cut the conversation there, ushering Clarke in through the tent flap before he shoved it back down in an amused Murphy’s face and zipped it angrily back up.

“He’s got a point, though.”

“Princess, when Murphy starts making sense, then you know the situation is screwed.”

Clarke bit her lip. Bellamy’s mood had deteriorated the longer they had remained out in public. It was only her constant hand squeezes in warning that had stayed the scowl he currently wore.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sinking down to sit down on the rare double mattress that Kane had presented to them with a flourish earlier that afternoon along with a comment about newly-weds needing comfort to enjoy themselves.

“Why are you apologising?”

“Because it wasn’t for me then you wouldn’t have to take part in this distasteful masquerade.”

Bellamy stopped rifling through his pile of clothes and turned and faced her, a fleece pair of pyjama bottoms in his hand. “What?”

“It’s just you seem so unhappy about all of this,” Clarke said waving a hand around vaguely in the direction of Alpha Station.

“Of course I’m unhappy about this,” he said explosively. “They were going to marry you off, Clarke! To some Grounder you’ve never even met! As if you’re a commodity to trade!”

“So you’re not unhappy about having to pretend to be married to me?”

He bent then in front of her, his hands reaching out and clasping hers. “Only in that we were forced into this and I worry about how repulsive it is for you.”

“Repulsive?” she queried.

Bellamy eyes dropped down to the floor, the movement now a familiar one to Clarke, who had grown used to reading his actions. She freed one hand to lift his chin up. “Don’t, Bellamy. How could you think I would find being in this position with _you_ repulsive? Yes, I’d rather we didn’t have to do this, but it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with the situation. How could I find you repulsive?”

The sadness in his brown eyes was soul crushing. After all this time, he still thought he was unworthy of anything good, of having someone in his life for all the right reasons.

Clarke’s hand travelled up from his chin to cup his cheek. “ _You_ are the only one I would trust in this situation, Bellamy. Only you.

His eyes stopped shying away from hers then and he stared back at her as if seeking out the truth of her words. “Really?” he asked.

“Really,” she said emphatically. “Just you.”

Without thinking about it, she closed the space between them and pressed her lips against his. His hands came up and tangled in her hair, deepening the kiss, before he pulled away, touching his forehead against hers.

“So what now?”

Clarke smiled mischievously. “How about we take advantage of our situation and see where it goes.”

The grin that left groves in the skin to the sides of his mouth appeared. “Sounds like a plan, Princess.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [tumblr](http://rumaan.tumblr.com/) where I am generally flailing over Bellamy Blake's character development amongst other things.


End file.
